“Maybe I should make you some cookies,” I suggested.
“Really not necessary.”
At first I was shocked at the emphasis to his “really”. Then I remembered that Luke had smelled the results of my last attempt at being a baking goddess.
“Okay, maybe I should buy you some cookies.”
“That’d work.”
Disconnect.
Well then, there it was.
Store cookies seemed kind of a lame “thank you” for driving three drug dealers hell-bent on gang-raping and torturing you out of town but burnt cookies were no thank you at all.
I made a mental note to hit the bakery at Safeway and got back to work.
* * * * *
Now Vance was calling again and I tried to be cool but I had to admit (just to myself) I liked to see “Crowe calling” on my display.
I liked it a lot.
I picked up my phone and flipped it open. “Hey,” I said to Crowe.
“Hey. Got some things to do tonight. Thought I’d take you to Lincoln’s for dinner before I did ‘em.”
“That sounds good.”
“Meet you at your place at six.”
“Okay.”
“Later, Princess.”
Disconnect.
I sat there with the phone to my ear and stayed that way. I liked how I felt even after a quick, meaningless phone call from Vance telling me he was taking me out to dinner. I wondered if I’d always feel like that and I hoped I would.
Slowly I flipped the phone shut and set it on my desk, realizing this would be only the second time we’d been out to dinner. We’d had only one date and we were practically living together. He was moving clothes to my house, I had toiletries at his.
Realizing this, I started to laugh, my body shaking with it.
Vance had done it. Just like everyone said he would, just like Lee, Eddie and Hank before him. He hadn’t wasted any time (I, however, had) and he’d moved so fast I didn’t even realize it was happening. Hell, it was my idea for him to leave clothes at my house.
I was laughing so hard, I snorted and Andy, who was on the phone, looked up at me with knitted inquiring brows.
I shook my head at him and mouthed, “I’ll tell you later.”
Andy blinked in surprise.
I’d been working with Andy for awhile. He’d come to the Shelter about six months after they hired me. I’d never, not once, told him anything personal about me. He was a good guy and he could make me laugh. He had a wife and a little girl. He shared stories all the time about what they’d done, funny things his kid said.
Me, nothing. I never shared.
I’d gone through life alone (my choice), in order not to feel, so I wouldn’t get hurt.
Now I knew what I was missing.